Home Detention
by KattyBorz
Summary: "Mr. Rogers, losing a family member is difficult and since you are two months short of being eighteen the you will be sentenced as a juvenile. I am ordering three months incarceration to be served at home." **Warnings: Rated for Language and Adult Situations, M/M relationship, Character Death** (warnings, genres and rating may change as story develops) Avengers AU Stony
1. Camping Trip

A/N: I should be ashamed of this, but I'm really not. This will be eventually a Stony fic, it's just gonna be a multi chapter. I know, those of you who know how I work are cringing on the inside, I get it. But I'm gonna actually try to finish this one. There is a character death, it's semi minor, like it's not just some small background person but it's not a major character in _this_ story. Ya know?

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Marvel (except their merchandise) or anything from Distubia.

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Chapter 1

Camping Trip

The river was quiet this morning. There was no rushing of currents or even the sound of fish popping up to bite at the insects floating on the surface. The cattails stood stock still, the gentle breeze too weak to bend them, like soldiers standing at attention. The morning sun glared off the water's surface, nearly blinding him but he couldn't look away. The serenity of the moment was too much for him to want to leave. His brother was still asleep in their tent and Steve wanted to absorb this moment for all that it was worth. James, or Bucky to everyone except their mother, and himself had finished their finals for the school year and decided to celebrate by heading out to the mountains to camp for the weekend. Unfortunately, their trip ends today and he would need to wake Bucky up shortly so they can start packing.

But for now, Steve sat on the river bank watching the fish play and the bugs swim and the sun rise. He thought about how he and Bucky would be back to work at their mom's small outfitter's store, folding clothes and stacking boots wasn't his ideal way to spend the rest of his summer but it helped pay bills. When their father died, Sarah opened her own small clothing shop on the outskirts of the city to keep her busy. Of course, once her boys were old enough they were put to work organizing shelves and refolding sweaters. They did so happily, but only to appease their mom.

Movement came from behind Steve and a minute later Bucky stumbled out of the tent. His hair was standing straight up and his eyes were barely slits in the morning sun. He grumbled as he shuffled over to a boulder that was just behind Steve and plopped down, rubbing a hand against his eyes.

"Why did you let me take that last shot?" Bucky moaned.

Steve smiled. "It's not like I could stop you." Steve snorted. "You've always been sort of one track minded that way." He stood up and stretched, his muscles aching from sitting on the ground for so long.

"Shut up, punk."

"Stop complaining, jerk." Steve shoved him gently. "Come on, get changed. We need to pack up and head down before too long. Mom's expecting us back this afternoon."

Bucky groaned and threw his head back. "Can I just call in sick?"

"I'm pretty sure the term is 'hungover' and no, you can't." Steve smirked as Bucky levered himself up and made his way to his duffle bag in a more human like manner.

It took them ten minutes to tear down their tent and another ten to shove everything back into their car. It would've been faster if Bucky didn't stop every few minutes and whined about how much his head hurt or complained about going back home. But after a few stern glares from Steve, he instead was mumbling to himself sardonically. They were halfway down the mountain when Sarah called Steve's phone. After glancing over at Bucky, who had fallen back asleep as soon as he was in the car, he answered loudly and cheerfully.

"Hey, Mom!" Bucky jolted awake and glared at him. Steve smirked in response.

"Are you two on your way back yet?"

Steve rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Yes, mom. I even got Bucky up and dressed and fed before we left." Steve snuck a sly glance at his brother in the passenger seat. "I would've bathed him but you know how squirmy he gets over stuff like that."

"Hey, punk!" Buck exclaimed, smacking him on the arm. " _I_ was the one helping change _your_ diapers! You better watch who you're talking to like that."

On the other end of the line, Steve could hear their mom laugh.

"Alright, how much longer until you get back?" Sarah asked.

A blaring of a horn from behind made Steve glance in the rearview mirror. A big, dark truck was suddenly a few feet away from their rear bumper, swerving around them at a high speed before veering back in front of them.

"What a jackass!" Bucky yelled to the windshield. "You better watch it, buddy! You're gonna get someone killed!"

"Cool it, Buck." Steve said sternly.

"Steve?" Sarah called from the other end. "Steve? Steven, what's going on?"

"Nothing, Mom. Just some jerk." Steve answered with a glare at Bucky.

"Well, put your brother on."

Steve handed the phone over to Bucky and turned his attention back to the road in front of him.

" _Yes, Mom_. Jeez, what do you take me for?" Bucky said as he casted his eyes to the roof of the car.

"What?" Steve asked.

"No, Sam's brother didn't _supply_ us with anything." Bucky's eyes closed and Steve could hear their mother's voice grow shriller.

"What's she saying?" Steve asked, glancing from the road to Bucky and back again.

Buck moved the mouth piece away from his face as he looked at Steve. "She wants to know if we were drinking all weekend."

Steve's heart raced. Their mother was lenient on quite a few things but underage drinking was a no-no. Ever since they lost their dad to alcoholism five years ago, Sarah put her foot down on any drugs or alcohol.

"Is she believing you?" Steve asked. Bucky fiddled with the phone for a moment before putting it on speaker. Instantly the car was filled with the sound of their mother's voice yelling at them.

"— _you better be taking care of your brother, James! I can't believe you would do something so stupid and irresponsible! What if something happened and you were too drunk to do anything? You better be prepared to be grounded for—"_

"Shit! Steve!" Bucky yelled and dropped the phone to the floor board.

Steve looked up in time to see the truck from earlier jerk around another vehicle. A vehicle that was not moving. Steve had a split second to yank on the steering wheel and try to pull the car to the left. The passenger side of the car hit the vehicle in front of them and they ended up rolling over onto the roof of the car, skidding down the road for a couple of yards. Once they came to a stop, Steve looked over at Bucky, they were hanging from their seats but Bucky was leaning at an odd angle. Steve's left leg was burning, but he put that to the back of his mind as he tried to help his brother.

"Steve, you okay?" Bucky asked shakily. Steve nodded. "Alright, let's see if we can get out of this thing." Bucky wiggled enough for Steve to see through the broken window and a red truck speeding straight towards them.

"Buck!" Steve cried out and before he could reach out to him the truck slammed into the passenger side of their car, sending it spinning another handful of yards down the road. Once it stopped, Steve managed to contort his body enough to pull himself out of the car and onto the glass covered highway. "Bucky?" Steve called as he hopped around the wreckage. "Bucky?!" He reached the other side and looked for a way to pull the door open. "Buck? Are you okay?" Steve lowered himself to the ground and froze. "No…"

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See? I told you!

Reviews are welcomed and appreciated. Thank you.


	2. One Year Later

Chapter 2

One Year Later

Steve walked through the halls of his school, wearing dirty jeans and a baggy hoodie. He had the hood pulled over his head and he kept his eyes on the tiled floor with his hands deep in his pockets. It was the last day of his Junior year and almost the one-year anniversary of the day he lost his brother. Bucky would've been graduating this weekend like the rest of his classmates and friends. It had been hard. His mom didn't leave her room for a month and didn't even think about her store for another two months. Steve knew that she didn't blame him for the accident, but Steve did. If he wasn't so concerned with his mom and Bucky fighting he would've reacted sooner, better. Maybe he could have kept the entire thing from happening if he'd let Bucky whine and complain a few more minutes, if they had left their campsite just two minutes later, maybe Bucky would be here chattering away about college and their camping trip they would be leaving for the next day. Steve built his shame and guilt on maybes.

The funeral had been as you would've expected. His mom's broken sobs still echo in his mind every day, a pitiful soundtrack to the visual of Bucky being lowered next to their dad at the cemetery. For a funeral, the sun was too bright and the birds were too loud and the traffic rumbling behind them was too busy for his tastes. It just didn't seem like he lost his brother, his best friend. Life went on.

But Steve didn't.

He remembered taking Health classes last year and thought about how they talked about victims not being able to remember the incident. Or if they did, it was only pieces. It was the brains defense mechanism to protect itself. Steve wished he were so lucky. He remembered every word, every movement. He remembered the look in Bucky's lifeless eyes, the fear and pain that was so obvious to him, and knowing that he caused it. He had many tell him that it wasn't his fault, that there was nothing he could have done, but Steve felt like he could have done something more. He just wasn't sure what that something was.

He shuffled into his last class of the day and slumped in his seat. He folded his arms over his desk and rested his head on his folded hands. He remembered signing up for German classes because Bucky wanted to and they could study together, now he regretted his decision more than ever. He never paid attention in this class, not because he didn't want to but because he would think about Bucky and how much he wanted to visit Germany and see the history there. Another thing that he would never get to do.

"Hey, man, how's it going?" Sam Wilson, Steve's best friend since elementary school, slid into the desk next to him. Steve just shrugged and turned his attention back to the scratched-up desktop. "You do know that we're presenting today, right?"

Steve shrugged again. He couldn't make himself care.

"Guten morgen klasse!" Mr. Schmidt boomed after the warning bell rang. "Wie eht es dir?"

Quiet repsonses echoed around them and Mr. Schmidt took his seat behind his desk with a heavy sigh. Steve tuned out the rest of the class as each, one by one, stood and presented their plans for summer in German. It was only when Sam returned to his desk and someone calling his name that he looked up.

"Herr Rogers, would you like to share with us your plans for summer?" Mr. Schmidt asked with an eyebrow raised.

"What…like now?" Steve muttered.

"If it is convenient for you, yes."

Snickers and giggles rouse from the other students and Steve sighed.

"Do you want me to stand up?" He asked quietly.

"Ja Herr Rogers."

Steve looked at him a little baffled. Sam nudged his side and gestured for him to stand up. Slowly, he pulled himself out of his chair and his shoulders just slumped down. His hands were jammed in his pockets and he stared at his shoes.

"In… In d-dies… uh, dies…"

"Diesem." Mr. Schmidt prompted tiresomely.

"Diesem." Steve muttered. "In diesem Sommer… gehe ich… um…"

"Steve," Mr. Schmidt stopped him from continuing. He levered himself out of his office chair and slowly walked around the desk and down the aisle to where Steve stood. "Did you even do the homework?"

"No." Steve mumbled, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. He could feel Sam's eyes on him and he knew that his face would've just screamed pity.

"No," Mr. Schmidt repeated. "Alright then, give me one good reason not to fail you right here and now." Steve's jaw locked up and his eyes were everywhere but on the man in front of him. "I know this past year has been hard, Bucky was one of my best students." Mr. Schmidt leaned in closer to Steve and said quietly, "Seeing you here like this, what would he think?"

Steve's vision turned red and the next moment he was on his teacher about to deliver another fist to that pale face when arms wrapped around his torso and heaved him up and away. Shouts and screams filled the momentary silence from earlier.

"Steve! No!" Sam's voice rang in his ear. "Don't do it, man!"

Steve couldn't listen. How _dare_ this man talk about his brother like he knew him? How _dare_ he even think he understood Bucky? He didn't know a damn thing about him or his brother. Bucky was the closest thing to a father Steve ever had and he killed him! Steve killed him! And Mr. Schmidt has the audacity to speak like he knew him so well. Over Steve's body.

"Get him out of here!" Mr. Schmidt shouted from the floor, a hand dabbing at his lip were Steve's first punch landed. "Get his ass down the principal's office, Wilson. Now!"

Steve felt himself being dragged out of the classroom and down the hall. Sam was yammering about something, probably how he just screwed himself over after attacking their teacher like that, but Steve didn't hear a word. The only thing he could think about was how Mr. Schmidt had been right. What would Bucky think of him? But the thought could only last a minute before he shook it off. Bucky was dead. Nothing was going to bring him back.


	3. Court Day

Chapter 3

Court Day

It was an hour later when his mom walked through the front office and saw him hunched over, his head in his hands, that she realized that this year wasn't going to be any better than the previous one. There was an officer sitting on the other side of the office watching her son and another one standing in the corner with the principal. Sarah sighed and moved over to sit next her son. She placed a gentle and on his back and he peered at her. She gave him a small comforting smile and he went back to pressing his hands into his eyeballs.

"Mrs. Rogers, if we could have a moment?" The principal, Nick Fury, asked and gestured for her to join him and the other officer.

She stood and greeted each with a warm smile.

"What's going to happen now?" She asked after the pleasantries were exchanged.

"Well, ma'am, your son did assault Mr. Johan Schmidt." The officer, Rumlow, said calmly. "If he presses charges, your son will have to appear before a judge and that's juvenile detention at the very best."

Sarah's heart sank and she glanced back at her boy. To think that her little boy would change so much in a single year. Steve was always the best behaved out of her two boys and he never so much as killed a fly without crying. James had been the one to get into fights and come home bloodied and bruised, especially when they were younger. She never could get James to tell her why he fought so much. He would just shrug and a few hours later it was like nothing ever happened. Sarah turned her attention back to Fury and Rumlow.

"So, what now?"

They put Steve in the back of the patrol car, they didn't cuff him, but he was to be transported with the officers back to the precinct. Sarah followed behind in her vehicle and entered the police office in time to see Johan Schmidt sitting at a desk across the room. He was talking animatedly, even though he had an ice pack to his jaw, and gesturing wildly. Sarah took a deep breath and marched to where Officer Rumlow was writing down Steve's statement.

She lowered herself next to Steve and rubbed his back. Once Rumlow finished he excused himself and took the file to an office door a few feet away. Sarah hummed quietly as Steve stared listlessly at the floor, his body slightly swaying as his mom moved her hand along his back and shoulders. It was a lullaby she used to sing to her sons when they were young and in need of comforting, it was the same song that their father used to sing to them all the time when she was pregnant with them. A security blanket for the Rogers family.

"Alright, Mrs. Rogers," Rumlow said as he strode back to his desk. "We spoke with our captain and the district attorney. Good news: he will not be detained today. As he is a minor we'll send him home with you. Bad news: he does have to appear in court in five days and speak before a judge. Mr. Schmidt is pressing charges for assault and battery."

Sarah took a deep breath and forced a smile. She couldn't believe her ears. Her baby boy could be in jail come next week and there wasn't much for her to do about it.

"Thank you, Officer Rumlow." She shook his hand and stood up. "We appreciate your help." She grabbed Steve's arm and pulled him up before mother and son left the building.

"Mr. Rogers," the judge called. The case was short, just a couple of statements from participating officers and they had Steve and Mr. Schmidt recount their statements of the incident. Steve stood as he was called and briefly looked at his mom seated beside him. The things he had put her through this past year… "Mr. Rogers, losing a family member is difficult and since you are two months short of being eighteen the you will be sentenced as a juvenile." The judge looked down at the papers in front of him. "I am ordering three months incarceration to be served at home." He looked at Steve. "Don't let me see you here again, Mr. Rogers. Dismissed."

Steve stood there, surprised. He was sure he would be spending his Senior year in jail. Yet the judge ordered in home detention, Steve was dumbfounded. He couldn't move. He was vaguely aware of his mom standing and hugging him tightly in relief, their lawyer shaking their hands and wishing them luck. When they got home, they were met with another officer, this one in a suit and tie. He stood on their porch and smiled kindly at them.

"Hello, I'm Officer Coulson." He extended a hand and smiled at Steve and his mother. "I will be your probation officer." At Steve's confused look, Officer Coulson continued. "Basically, I'll just be checking in on you from time to time and making sure you're not getting into any more trouble." He shifted his carrying case. "I will also be setting up your monitoring device and explain how this whole thing works."

"Then, shall we continue this inside?" Sarah asked as she held the door open for Officer Coulson.

"Yes, we shall." Coulson walked inside followed by Steve and then Sarah. "Alright, Stevo, pop a seat anywhere and we'll get started."

Steve hopped onto the kitchen counter and watched as Coulson pulled out a small black box and two cords from his carrying case. He laid them out on the kitchen table before pulling out a small tool and a bulky black bracelet. He went to work installing the black box first, occasionally asking where he could plug it in at that would be convenient for Sarah. After he fiddled with the box for a while, he turned and grabbed the bracelet and the tool.

"Now for the fun part." Coulson grinned as he kneeled in front of Steve. "Pull up a pant leg and let's get this over with." Steve did as asked and pulled up his left pant leg. He watched in fascination. Coulson wrapped the band around Steve's ankle and attached it to itself with the small tool, he asked if it was too tight or if it was too loose before he pulled out a small black box. "This, is your GPS monitor. It's water proof, shock proof and idiot proof. You try to disconnect it at any time or try to leave a unit will be dispatched here immediately. This guy here," Coulson patted the black modem, "is your receiver. It sends the signal from your new bracelet to us downtown. If you unplug it for any reason a unit will be dispatched to your location. Now, it allows a one-hundred-foot radius of free play area for you, as long as you stay within that radius you shouldn't have any problems."

"What happens if he accidently goes too far?" Sarah asked from her position at the table.

"The green light will flash red and he has ten seconds to get back. Once it turns green you're in the safe zone. Okay?"

Steve nodded and hopped down from the counter. The monitor bracelet was heavy and it banged against his ankle with his every step. He walked around the kitchen trying to get a feel for it as his mom and Officer Coulson discussed payment options. He paused and looked up at the two adults.

"What about my job?" Steve asked.

"Sorry, son. No leaving this property for any reason unless you are escorted by either myself or another officer." Coulson smiled sympathetically. "Those are the rules."

After Officer Coulson left, Steve went outside. He didn't leave the front porch, he just went over to the bench swing that sat in front of the living room window and watch as the late afternoon sun sunk lower in the sky. He thought about Bucky and how he would've gloated about Steve being the one in trouble instead of him, how he would've teased him about the monitor and making jokes about GPS locators on jewelry, and how he would've stayed here with Steve then entire summer, no matter what other plans he had, so that way Steve wouldn't be alone.

But he wasn't. And he wouldn't.


	4. The Boy Next Door

Chapter 4

The Boy Next Door

Steve lasted a week before he started to go stir crazy. He couldn't sit still anywhere, he had to be moving. In the mornings after his mom left for work, he paced the first floor of his house moving constantly between the living room, kitchen and den. Once he'd get bored enough of just walking, he'd pick up a duster and start cleaning. If he was going to be locked away in his house he was at least going to be helpful. He'd eat lunch and then he'd start the same routine upstairs, walking from his room to the bathroom, laundry room, and study. A few times he'd stop and he'd stare at Bucky's old bedroom. He hasn't been in there since before the accident and he knew his mom had been in there to clean it but the door had remained shut for the better part of the year. Any of Steve's possessions that he left in the room stayed there. He couldn't bring himself to walk in like nothing had happened, just the thought sent him down into a depression.

So, in the afternoons, Steve could be found lying on his bed reading Marvel Comics or he'd staring longingly at his sketchbook sitting on his desk collecting dust. Since the accident his desire to draw and paint faded into nothing, he had a demanding time finding inspiration at first. Bucky had gifted him the sketchbook for his birthday a handful of years ago saying that he'd have something better than napkins or towels or whatever else he found lying around to doodle on. His first drawings were of Bucky and his mom in intimate moments. He drew Bucky laughing as he and his friends sat around the house just goofing off, he drew him withdrawn and angry when their father died, he drew him proud and grinning when Steve had told him that he won first place in the art fair at school.

With a heavy heart, Steve got up and moved for the book. His hand hovered over the plastic cover for long moments as he tried to muster enough courage to just touch it.

A loud beeping interrupted his thoughts along with shouting and a crash. Steve's head jerked up and he leaned as far as he could to see out the window. He barely could make out a box truck in the neighbor's driveway and a flurry of movement on the front lawn. Curious, Steve ran down the stairs and into the dining room for a better view. The truck belonged to a moving company and workers were heaving big and expensive looking furniture into the house. A man with dark brown hair dressed in slacks and a white button-down dress shirt stood on the front step shouting directions on where the furniture goes and " _Don't you dare leave a single mark on that couch! It costs more than you make in a year!_ "

Steve rolled his eyes and couldn't help but snicker at the man. He's obviously loaded, so why was he moving out here to fab and drab suburbia?

A woman with light hair flurried out of an expensive looking sedan parked in front the house carrying suitcases and garment bags. She paused briefly at the man on the step and spoke to him quietly before she pecked his cheek and walked into the house. She must be his wife, Steve thought. Either that or she is his mistress taunted Steve's imaginative side, but that would be a lot of change to put oneself through just for a woman. Loud music blasted from the street as an Audi sport car zipped in front of his house and came to a screeching stop behind the sedan. A boy, roughly Steve's age rose from the car and strutted up to the house. His dark hair was in disarray and he wore purple tinted glasses, he had a bag slung over one shoulder with his hands deep in his pants pockets. He greeted the workers and the man on the street with the barest of nods. The woman from before left the house and wrapped the boy in a hug and kissed his forehead.

His mother, Steve's mind supplied. So, a small rich family decided to move to the quiet life? What kind of a neighbor would he be if he didn't at least go over and greet them?

He lumbered out of the house and down the steps when the boy looked over at him. Steve could see a hint of deep chocolate brown eyes behind those ridiculous glasses and he was entranced. The curve of the boy's lips twitched up in a smirk and Steve felt himself wanting to taste those lips. He started to go down the driveway and the other boy was mimicking him in cliched chick flick where the happy couple get their ever after in slow motion.

The way the other boy moved and the way he smiled, Steve knew he was already lost on him. It's no secret that he looks at boys the way he looks at girls, his family knew and didn't care. That alone gave him enough reason to be comfortable with who he was. But this guy is the definition of beauty.

"Hey," the other boy said as they met on the sidewalk out front.

"Oh, uh… yeah… um… hi?" Steve stumbled embarrassingly. He normally had no problems flirting, it was just something about the way those eyes penetrated him and peered at his soul that set him off balance.

The boy smiled and extended a hand. "I'm Tony."

Steve returned the smile and grasped the hand in front of him. The palm was rough with callouses with black grime spotted here and there on the back of his hand. Steve could've kissed him right then. This guy who was obviously very well off financially worked with his hands. And he wasn't afraid to get dirty! Steve was sure if this were a cartoon little dancing hearts would be circling his head and Tina Turner's _I Will Always Love You_ would be playing in the background.

"Steve," he finally replied. Tony snickered at Steve was sure his dopey smile but he couldn't really bring himself to care. "Are you just moving in?"

"What?" Tony turned and looked at the mess behind him and sighed. "Oh, yeah. Forcibly removed from home and tossed into… well, this." He gestured to the general surroundings. Steve quirked an eyebrow and Tony's smile dropped. "Oh! No! Not that there's anything wrong with… this. It's just not my speed. I'm used to the hustle and bustle of the city and whatnot and now because my mom demanded for a change of scenery we get soccer mom vans and children screaming in the street for entertainment. What is that beeping?" Tony rambled as he looked around with a pinched expression.

"Huh?" Steve asked confused.

"You don't hear that beeping?" Tony asked, "it's getting kind of annoying. What the _hell_ is that?"

Sure enough, once it was brought up Steve could hear it. He glanced around briefly before panic set in. He looked down at his left leg and lifted his jeans, his new bracelet was flashing red and he yelped. He started to speedily back up, tripping over his feet as he went, watching it and praying it'll turn green.

"Come on, please, please, please," Steve begged as he fell onto his backside in the lawn and scrambled back to the front door. "Turn green! Please!" He was a few feet away from the bottom step of the porch when the light finally set back to the steady green glow. "YES!" He cried as he flopped onto his back in relief. He glanced around and noticed that the movers and Tony's parents were looking at him strangely. He shot a glance at Tony and saw him covering his mouth with his hand in a desperate attempt to hide his wide smile. "Sorry, I'm good now." He pointed at his ankle. "It's green."

Tony nodded. "Okay, I'll talk to you later then?"

"Definitely!" Steve said and laughed breathily as he watched Tony walk back to his parents. His light mood was short lived, however, as flashing red and blues came to a stop in front of his house and two officers exited the vehicle.

"Lay on your stomach," an officer called, "roll over and lay on your stomach."

Steve raised his hands and followed the instructions as they pinned his arms behind his back and slapped a pair of handcuffs on him. He glanced over and saw the firmly set jaw of Tony's dad and the widened eyed look of Tony's mom. Tony, himself, was leaning against a pillar on their porch and gave him a sad smile before being ushered into the house by his parents.

That's the way to make an impression. Have a freak out in the middle of the day and get arrested on your front lawn with your neighbor's and their gorgeous son watching, that'll get them to like you.

Steve pressed his forehead into the ground to make himself focus on something other than the growing number of concerned neighbors gathering in front of his house watching him get hauled to his feet and forced to sit on the front stoop.

 _Way to go, Steven._


	5. Establishing a Perimeter

Chapter 5

Establishing a Perimeter

If anybody asked, Steve was _not_ hiding. It wasn't like he was too embarrassed to go outside after being arrested on his front lawn in front of his new neighbors and their son. He was _not_ perched at his desk chair watching Tony set up the back shed as, what it looked like to Steve, a garage with a couple of odd looking machines. He was _not_ obsessively trying to see Tony after he disappeared for a couple of days. He also was _not_ watching the activities happening next door and hoping to catch Tony again.

Nope. Definitely not.

A week had passed since the incident of his totally not embarrassing arrest and Steve was slouched on the couch in the living room flipping through the TV channels. Since he wasn't hiding out in the house, he wasn't completely bored out of his mind that he resorted to seeing how many times he could change the channel in a minute. The answer was seventy-five. Steve decided that he _may_ be in denial.

There was a heavy knock on the doorway and Steve jumped up from the couch, leaving his varying snack wrappers everywhere, and peeked out of the window by the door. Standing there was his very best friend back from a visit with his grandparents.

"Hey!" Steve called excitedly as he pulled the door open. "Sam! Dude, what took you so long?"

"Well, not all of us have the government watching our every move, Steve." Sam teased as he entered the house. Steve pushed his friend's shoulder and moved back to the living room. "Also, not everyone is a slob." Sam balked as he took in the amount of food wrappers laying on the coffee table and the couch cushions and the floor. "Dang, dude. Ever heard of a trash can?" He asked as he cleared off a spot to sit on.

"Well, the kitchen is on the North side of the house and I actively try to avoid it as much as possible." Steve muttered as he picked up the remote again.

"Why? What's wrong with that side of the house?" Sam asked trying to see out the windows from his spot next to Steve.

"Did you see the van out front?"

"Yeah, but what's that got to do with anything?" Sam was just spiraling into a whole new level of confusion. "So, you have some new neighbors."

"They have a son."

"So?"

"He's pretty hot."

"So? Dude, you know I don't care about that stuff."

"They're rich."

"Still not seeing a problem here."

"They also watched me get arrested last week." Steve finished. Sam's jaw dropped and it took him a minute to speak again.

"Man, what did you do while I was upstate listening to my Grandpa tell me how far he had to walk to school?" Sam smacked his arm and snatched the remote out of his hand before turning off the TV.

Steve sighed and began to tell him about the disastrous first meeting with Tony. At the end, Sam was laughing so hard, tears started to fall from his eyes.

"I'm sorry." Sam huffed out between snickers. "I'm sorry, bro. That must have sucked." Sam tried to reign in the laughter but one look at Steve's petulant face, he started all over again. "Man, I leave for two weeks and you fall apart!" Sam let out a long breath and added more seriously, "but you can't keep hiding out in here, Steve. You're gonna have to face him sooner or later. And if you want anything to happen with this guy, it's gonna have to be sooner instead of later."

"I know, Sam." Steve grabbed a throw pillow his mom insists she has to have on the couch and hugged it to his chest, feeling vulnerable. "It's just, what if I had my chance and now it's gone?"

"Only one way to find out." Sam said as he got up from the couch and moved into the kitchen. He leaned over the sink and peered out the window, hoping he'll catch a glimpse the guy Steve was pinning over. Sure enough, Tony just left the shed in the backyard and looked like he was heading towards the front lawn. "And we're going to get this done and over with right now."

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked just started to rise from the couch. He watched as Sam turned away from the window and caught a glimpse of Tony. "Sam." Steve said warningly. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to fix it for you!" Sam said as he ran to the front door, Steve on his heels, and jumped down the steps before calling out to Tony, who was digging around in the backseat of his car. "Hey!" Sam called out. He stopped at the end of the driveway and Steve stood on the porch glaring at his back. Tony straightened and looked at Sam. "So, my best friend since ever lives here and he says something embarrassing happened to him last week."

Tony nodded. "Uh huh," he raised his eyebrow as he waited for Sam to continue.

"He's been cooped up in there since then and when he's in a bad mood he tends to get to be a bit of a slob, so now there's food and candy wrappers all over the place and it's horrifying and I don't know what his mom will think let alone what she'll actually say and he just spent the last half hour—thirty minutes!—of my precious time whining about a ruined shot." Tony was smiling at the end of Sam's wined rant. Sam took that as a good thing. "So, my question to you is this: if he asked you out right now would you say yes?"

"Sam!" Steve shouted indignantly and helplessly from the porch. He was still unsure how far he's allowed to go without getting in trouble again, so he just stood there watching Sam humiliate him again. "What the hell?"

"I don't know," Tony drawled teasingly with a huge grin on his face. "We only had a brief talk before. Maybe if I get to know him a little better his odds could increase."

"Thank you," Sam said reaching out a hand. "I'm Sam, by the way."

"Tony." He responded before shaking Sam's hand.

"Yeah, I know. The goon said your name repeatedly. More so than necessary. I mean, he even described you perfectly down to your eyes." Tony couldn't help but blush and glance up at Steve, who had his face in his hands. "And he is right, too, by the way. They're like seas of melted chocolate."

"SAM!" Steve shouted.

"Well, I guess I should go console him now that he is even more embarrassed." Sam smiled. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too, Sam."

Tony laughed as Sam jogged back up to the front porch and watched as Steve started to punch his arm. Shouts of pain and rebuke floated down to where Tony stood on the sidewalk as the two friends went back inside. He turned back to his car to root around for that missing tool with a grin on his face.

"Dammit, Sam." Steve said for the tenth time that hour. "I can't believe you did that."

"What are you so upset for?" Sam asked as he added another Twinkie. "I did my job as your wingman. I tested the waters for you. Hand me the glue, one's trying to fall off." Steve handed over the white glue and leaned back in his chair. "He's very open to idea of you two going out, even after all that embarrassing crap. It's obvious he doesn't care."

"There's just one thing wrong here, Sam." Steve pointed down to his left foot where the monitor was barely visible under his jeans. "I kinda can't _go_ anywhere."

"Dude, you're overthinking it." Sam said as he, too, leaned back to admire their masterpiece. The leaning Tower of Twinkies. "I don't think he'd care where you go, I think just spending time with you would be fine. I mean, it's not like he doesn't know yet. Or at least he has a pretty good idea of what's going on." Sam shrugged his shoulders and leveled a look at Steve. "Just go out there once and a while and talk to him."

"And what if what happened last time happened again?" Steve asked glaring at the monitor.

"That's an easy fix." Sam leapt to his feet. "You said you get a ten second grace period to get back to home base, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

Sam grinned.

The next hour was spent with long tent stakes and a ball of string as they marked off a perimeter for Steve's safe space. He had quite a bit of freedom than he had originally thought. He just literally cannot go outside the property. Steve grinned at Sam and gave him a high five.

"Now, you are aware of your limits, young Padawan." Sam laughed as Steve chucked the ball of string at his head.

* * *

Yes, I included the Twinkie Tower from the movie. I loved it so no judging. I figured it'd add a little lightness to the story line.


	6. Learning to Draw Again

Chapter 6

Learning to Draw Again

Admittedly, Steve felt conflicted with his new perimeter. While it was nice to know his limits, the carefully designed string line felt glaringly like a mocking reminder of what situation he was in. He had found that it was easy to forget if the monitor didn't itch and he didn't look at it, but that would only last for a few minutes. There should've been a warning label on the damn thing, it seemed to always cause him to itch. It was like a bug bite he couldn't get rid of.

Steve walked out onto the front porch and took in a deep breath before taking in his surroundings. The moving van next door was gone and the house was quiet, Steve assumed that they had finally finished the move and are settled in. He sat on the porch swing and just settled in as he listened to the morning birds and the sound of children's peeling laughter and squealing in the distance. Oh, how he loved summer mornings.

The mail man gave him a brief wave before depositing their letters into their mailbox at the end of the driveway before moving onto to his next delivery. Steve nodded back at him and stretched as he stood up. He walked down the front yard casting glances up and down the street just to see if anything had changed in the past week. When no drastic changes leapt out at him he smiled. He looked up across the street to see a small dog running around and playing. Steve watched for a minute before wincing in sympathy as the dog got too close to the edge of the property and was stopped short by a surge of electricity that Steve could hear from his yard.

"I understand, little buddy." Steve muttered before a loud rumbling caught his attention. He looked up to see Peter, a five-year-old kid that lived two houses away from him, rolling down the street on his skateboard. For a little guy, his balance was amazing and he waved enthusiastically at Steve with a big grin on his face. Steve waved back with a shocked smile. "You go, kid."

Getting back to the matter at hand, Steve went to lean over the fence to reach the mailbox. He checked back to make sure his left foot stayed inside the string line as he tried to pull himself closer. He reached out a hand and managed to open it. One step down, one to go. He grunted and shifted as he tried to contort himself into a shape that would allow his hand to reach inside the box to grab the damn letters. He struggled for a while before a voice broke his concentration.

"Need help?"

Steve nearly fell over the fence, which would've been horribly embarrassing, as he jumped in surprise. He looked up to find Tony standing on the other side of the box watching in amusement. Steve laughed breathily as he continued to strain himself.

"No," Steve gasped. "No, I almost got it."

His hand fumbled around, trying to locate the envelopes to latch onto. Tony watched for another minute before he sighed.

"God, if we wait for you to get it, summer will be over." Tony snatched the mail out of the box and snapped the little door shut. "Would it kill you to accept help every now and then?"

Steve stood straight as Tony walked to the driveway. Steve met him and accepted the mail from the outstretched hand.

"I don't know," Steve smiled. "Maybe I was doing that to look impressive."

Tony snorted a laugh. "By cussing out the mail man for thoughtlessly putting the mail too far in the box for you to easily reach as you're half falling over the fence?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" Steve trailed off as Tony laughed. Steve gestured over Tony's shoulder towards the house. "How'd the move go?"

"Oh," Tony glanced back and sighed. "It was fine, I guess."

Tony's face was pinched again and Steve filed it away to ask about later. "I would've helped, but you know," he gestured down to his foot, "I'm a little bit spacially challenged at the moment."

"I noticed." Tony smiled. "How'd that happen by the way?"

"I killed my teacher." Tony chuckled and Steve couldn't help but roll with it. Something about Tony's laugh and smile just made Steve want to keep them going for as long as he could. "Yeah, he flunked me actually, in German. So, I snapped."

"Uh huh," Tony rolled his eyes with a soft smile. "Alright, don't tell me. But you should know, I'm very good at finding out people's secrets. It's like a thing with me. I keep poking and prodding until I get the answers I want. My friend, Rhodey, he always called it torture."

Steve smiled and leaned against the fence post. "That sounds like a challenge to me. Just be careful where you poke and prod, I've been told I'm very ticklish."

"Really?" Tony asked with a peaked eyebrow. "Any places specifically?"

"I don't know if I want to tell you that." Steve responded dryly. "It might be used as a torture technique."

"Alright, mister, challenge accepted." Tony declared. "One of these days I'll set my torturous questioning on you and you will not be able to resist."

"I'm looking forward to it." Steve said as he looked Tony up and down. Tony's cheeks tinged slightly pink and Steve felt a rush at the sight. He made Tony _blush_.

"Anthony!" A booming voice interrupted their banter. Tony turned and Steve glanced up at the man standing on the porch. Tony's dad.

Tony sighed and turned back to Steve. "Well, I need to go. But we'll hang soon."

Tony turned around and headed back to his house and Steve just stood there watching him. Once he disappeared behind the door, Steve meandered back up to his own house. If he did a little skip up the steps, no one saw and he wasn't going to mention it. He dropped the mail on the coffee table before bounding up the stairs, he paused at the top and he had a brief moment lapse in memory as he wondered where Bucky was to tell him about the boy next door. His heart sank as he remembered his brother's death and he looked at Bucky's door. Steve stepped over to it and his hand hovered over the handle before he took a deep breath and opened it.

The room looked the same as it always did. Except Bucky's bed was made and there weren't clothes all over the place. Steve stepped inside and glanced around. There were trophies from elementary school sport achievements and a few participation awards for their annual science fair, superhero figurines were scattered on shelves and Bucky's bookcase, posters of bikini models and sports cars wallpapered the room. Steve stepped further inside and looked at a shelf crammed with picture frames. He smiled as he looked at each one.

There was one of himself, Bucky and their dad with their arms around each other standing in front of a campsite. This was before their dad started heavily drinking and took his sons on a camping trip every year, the same spot that he and Bucky used to go to long after their dad had died. He and Bucky were barely in elementary school at the time it was taken and they had big toothy grins. The next one was from a party Bucky had dragged him to a couple years ago, they each had a red cup in their hands and their faces were flushed with alcohol. They were standing together and Bucky looked like he was in the middle of telling a tale of adventure, his face full of expression and his non-drinking hand was blurred in movement. Steve's face was nothing but embarrassed so the story must have been about him doing something stupid. On either side of them was a girl, one blonde and the other brunette, and Steve couldn't remember their names if his life depended on it. The next was taken in a hospital when they were in middle school, Steve was laying on the bed with an oxygen mask strapped to his face and Bucky sat on the edge of the bed grinning at the camera. Steve had suffered an asthma attack after he and Bucky sprinted home after school one day because Bucky accidentally kicked a nice sized rock into Mr. Carter's living room window. Steve had eventually grown out of the asthma and finally grew more muscle mass and gained some inches in height just before he entered high school. The last one was of all four of them. Their mom and dad standing shoulder to shoulder, three-year-old Bucky on their dad's hip and two-year-old Steve was being held by their mom. Steve knew that Bucky and their dad had a closer relationship than Steve could ever hope for, but that's because Bucky was more masculine at the time. He always wanted to go outside and kick a ball around and get dirty whereas Steve would rather stay clean and just draw. Steve was never envious of their close relationship, but he had wished he could've been there for Bucky more when their dad died and he had to step into his shoes as Man of the House.

Steve heaved in a breath and shakily let it out before the wetness in his eyes had a chance to fall. He moved to the window and looked out over Tony's backyard. It figured that Bucky would have a better view from his room than Steve did, and not for perverted reasons. There was a room on the second floor that was set back further than the rest of the house. It had a wide window facing Steve and with the blinds up, he could see into the room. There was a long desk under the window with a compute and random looking objects strewn across the surface. The bed was pushed back into the corner, the bedding was neat and tidy indicating that Tony either made his bed in the morning or he never slept in it. The bedroom door opened and Tony walked in and sat down at his desk. He picked up one of the objects and examined it closely. Steve settled down in Bucky's desk chair and watched the concentration on Tony's face and he fiddled with whatever was in his hands.

After about half an hour, Steve felt the inevitable urge to sketch. He looked around for a pencil and paper in the desk drawers and got to work. It was hard to make out the intricate details from as far away as Steve was, but he let his imagination and his few short encounters with the guy take over. Before he knew it, his mom was home and calling him down for dinner and Steve had sketched out three drawings of Tony in four hours. Looking down at his work, he felt a rush he hadn't experienced in over a year. The feeling of _home_ returned with a few rough sketches and Steve was proud to say that he still had his talent. Maybe he would be able to really start drawing again. Maybe he'd be able to go to that art school Bucky had always told him about since he'd seen Steve's very first drawing.

Steve just knew, as he headed down to the kitchen, that something inside him finally felt complete and full. He felt healed and finally, truly, happy.


	7. It Begins

Chapter 7

It Begins

Later that night, Steve was sprawled out on the arm chair watching evening television with his mom when he first heard about it. His mom was laying on the couch fast asleep as he flipped slowly through the channels, enjoying the peace of the moment while it lasted. Dinner was a light affair with Steve smiling and laughing with his mom as they set up the table. She had asked why he was in such a good mood and he told her everything. Of course, she already knew about the perimeter breach last week, but he told her about Tony and how he started to draw again. She had beamed at him and kissed his head.

"I'm happy for you, Steve." She had whispered in his hair. "You need some good in your life again."

Steve couldn't help the warm feeling he had in his chest when he thought about the day, and he didn't want to suppress it either. His mom was right, he deserved something good.

"…missing tonight, twenty-four-year-old Amanda Jerolds was last seen at the corner of 18th Street and Woodyard Avenue earlier this evening. She was reported to have been seen getting into a black 1964 Ford Mustang what may have a dent in the driver's rear panel. If you have any information, please contact the police at the number shown on your screen." The newscaster waited a pause before she continued. "In other news…"

Steve turned off the TV. Granted, this wasn't the first time this happened but Steve never liked to hear about it. News these days just continued to get more depressing each broadcast. He looked over at his mom, who was still asleep, and debated about waking her up. He knew she didn't get much sleep these days and he knew he didn't help keep her mind at ease, so he quietly stood up and headed upstairs to his room. He leaned against the door frame as he gazed at his sketchbook. He sucked in a breath before settling in his chair. Steve ran his fingers over the cover and opened it. He was greeted with his very first drawing of Bucky. Admittedly, it wasn't too bad for an eleven-year-old kid, but he was still found flaws and rookie mistakes within the graphite lines of his brother's face. He quickly flipped to a blank page and pulled out his charcoal and graphite pencils from his bottom drawer.

He stared out the window into the dark night, thinking about what to sketch next. He always did better with real life subjects to get him back in the swing of things so he etched out the outline to his fellow prisoner across the street, concentrating on the fur and eyes. He got so absorbed that he hadn't noticed that it was well past midnight, he straightened his back and stretched his arms above his head when he glanced at the alarm clock next to the bed. Twelve fifty-eight am it blinked at him. Steve rubbed his next and looked at his progress. He was satisfied with most of them, his shading needed a little work and his lines were shaky but he gave himself credit for doing it all by memory.

A block of light suddenly appeared in the yard next door and he watched with interest as Tony crept out of his shed and closed the doors quietly. He glanced around as he walked back to the house, rubbing his hands on his bare arms. Steve swore for a moment that Tony looked straight at him, which was impossible. He was drawing by moonlight and the only light on in his room is the lamp by the bed. The most he'd see would possibly be a shadow. And yet, Steve ducked out of view, his heart pumping wildly. He tried to assure himself that Tony didn't see him but he couldn't truly believe that unless he looked again.

Steve peered cautiously around the window frame and watched Tony climb the trellis on the house and slid open a window to his room. Steve continued to stare until Tony drew the curtains and the light went out.

Now why would he be sneaking in and out of his house to go to the shed in the backyard? Steve wondered.

A flash of lights reflecting off Tony's bedroom window made him move to his other window that face out towards the back yard. A car was pulling into the driveway of the house directly behind his home. It was dark in color and what Steve could gather by the moonlight it was an older model.

"Huh," Steve murmured in admiration. "A mustang."

He watched as the door to the detached garage opened and light engulfed the car. It was black and it was a Mustang, thanks to the teachings of his father and brother Steve could recognize and guess years of makes and models. This one looked similar to a '64 Mustang. He held his breath as the car was pulled into the garage and light crept up the car's body. The line of the car was straight and beautiful and when the light reached the back of the car the dent in the left rear panel was obvious. Steve released his breath as he scrambled closer to the window trying to see if he was just hallucinating.

"Steve?" His mom called from the doorway to his bedroom. Steve whipped around, his eyes widened with fear and his heart was racing. His mom stepped back in response and put a hand on her chest as she gasped.

"Jeez, Mom!" Steve complained as he doubled over, his hands on his knees.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Sarah responded patting his back soothingly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Steve smiled at his mom. "I just nearly had a heart attack is all. Completely normal."

She smiled at his joke and moved her hand away. "Alright, wise guy. I'm going to bed." She kissed his cheek. "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't." He said as she turned to leave his room. "Good night, Mom."

Once the door was closed he turned back around. The garage door was closed and the house was dark and still. _Damn._ Steve thought as he fell back onto his bed. _Who lived there anyway?_

He briefly remembered him and Bucky sitting on his bed and watching some guy move in three years ago. They were making fun of his tastes and how grateful they were that the old bat who lived there before finally went to an old folk's home out east to be closer to her children. She was mean, too. Every time they lost something in her yard when they were kids, she refused to let them retrieve it and let her little rat dog bite at their ankles when they walked to close to her yard.

The man that lived there now wasn't much older than his mom. Steve just knew that he was tall for a guy and his hair was mostly white. Other than that, he didn't know much about him. He resigned himself to asking his mom about him in the morning and maybe keep an eye on him tomorrow and see what his routine is. Steve knew he could learn a lot about a person just by watching what they do every day. Like Tony.

Tony.

Steve rolled his head to the side and pretended he could see through his wall. He knew all he'd see were curtains and windows. But he'd think about what Tony was doing. If he was sleeping or if he was lost in the world of computers and numbers like he usually was or if he was actually sleeping. Steve imagined how Tony would look in his sleep and he knows it sounds creepy and stalker-like but he knew that Tony would be just as beautiful asleep as he was awake.

 _One day,_ Steve thought as he looked at the ceiling and closed his eyes. _One day, I'll get to know everything about you. And I can't wait._

Steve drifted off to sleep with a smile to his face, unaware of everything outside his little bubble.


	8. Stalker 101

Chapter 8

Stalker 101

Mr. Norman Osborn moved to the neighborhood three years ago straight from New Haven, Connecticut. Steve's mom doesn't know what he does for a living but she says that she's sure he's retired. He's unmarried and he has no children. Steve had to stop his questioning because his mom started to get suspicious. When she asked him about his sudden curiosity into their neighbors lives he answered that he wanted to give Tony some information on the rest of the neighborhood so he would feel more welcomed.

His mom smiled and ruffled his hair and proceeded to tell him about every neighbor on their street. Their names, their jobs, what they drove and the strangest things she's caught each of them doing.

Apparently, the couple, the Wilsons, that lives across the street with Steve's prisoner buddy, are not as happy as they put on during the block parties and festivals. Sarah told him that every day that Mrs. Wilson leaves for work, Mr. Wilson has an affair with their very young maid. She had caught Mr. Wilson coming back home ten minutes after he left for work and saw him and his new mistress kissing on the upstairs balcony.

Steve's jaw dropped with each story his mom told him and he couldn't help but wonder if she was just pulling his leg or if she was right. His mind itched for him to run upstairs, grab Bucky's binoculars and lay in wait. Once his mom had left for work, that was exactly what he did. He ran up the stairs, dove into Bucky's room to grab the binoculars from the closet and darted across the hall into his parents' room. He leaned against the cabinet under the window and watched the house across the street.

Mr. Wilson came through the front door just seconds later, waved to someone on the inside (Mrs. Wilson, maybe) before heading to his car. He glanced up and gave another subtle wave and Steve adjusted his view and saw a very young and very hot maid on the balcony. She waved back before she returned to what looked like dusting the railing. Mrs. Wilson left the house a minute later and headed down the street to her job at the local mart a few blocks away. Steve set the binoculars down and waited for Mr. Wilson to return and sure enough, nine minutes later on the dot, his car pulls back into the driveway and he jogs inside the house. Steve watched as the maid went back into the house and met Mr. Wilson in, Steve guessed, the master bedroom.

His mom was right. Steve couldn't believe it. Mr. Wilson was having a very cliched affair with the maid! He couldn't help but laugh. Curious, Steve pulled the binoculars back to his eyes as he shifted around the neighborhood to see what else his mom was right about.

That week, Steve learned things that he never thought was possible on his street. He thought that being on house arrest was the worst thing this place has ever seen, but he was sorely mistaken. The family that lives catty corner to him, all three of the kids sneak onto the roof and smoke pot together after their parents leave for work. The neighbors to the south of him have two eleven-year-old boys, they have their friends over and they watch skin flicks in the middle of the day with their mom in the next room doing their laundry.

He also found out that Mr. Osborn doesn't do much during the day. He doesn't see him much besides at about three in the afternoon when he mows the grass, other than that he's either inside the house or he's out on the town. Steve didn't see the Mustang reappear either. The garage doors remained shut for the entire week and the only vehicle that Steve sees coming or going from the house is a silver sedan that parks outside in the driveway.

During Steve's stalker week, he feels like he's been neglecting Tony. In his desperation to see what goes on behind closed doors of those around him, he barely had time to check in on his favorite boy next door. He'll peek every occasionally, but Tony's either in his shed locked away for hours or he's in his room with the curtains drawn. It worries Steve when he doesn't see Tony at least once a day, but now there was only so much Steve could do to keep himself occupied.

On Friday, of that week, Steve was sitting at Bucky's desk watching as Tony lay on a lawn chair in the back yard in nothing but a pair of shorts and sunglasses. He had head phones in and his foot was tapping along to an unknown beat. A knock came from downstairs and Steve gave Tony a long appreciating look before he leapt to the front door. Sam was back.

"Hey, Sam!" Steve greeted as he pulled his friend in the house. "What's up man?"

"I don't know, you're the one who called me and told me that you had something to show me." Sam said. "So, what is it?"

Steve ran up the stairs with Sam following. "Dude, you're not going to believe what I've discovered this week."

"Bro, if has anything to do with you and Tony, I think I'll pass."

"No, nothing's happened there yet." Steve said sadly. He moved to Bucky's room to grab the binoculars and on his way out he stopped and glanced at the beautiful specimen lounging in the morning sun. His skin literally glimmered with the sunlight and his hair danced with the gentle breeze.

"Man, come on. What is it that you—Woah." Sam cautiously stepped into the room and came to a sudden stop next to Steve. "That your boy out there?"

"Yeah," Steve said as he tried not to enjoy the rush that statement gave him. Tony wasn't his… _yet._

"Damn." Sam said appreciatively. Steve leveled a glare at him. "Just a 'cause I'm straight doesn't mean I can't appreciate the male body." Sam rolled his eyes at Steve's possessive stance. "All I'm saying is he is one fine looking dude. I don't want to do anything about it though. I'll leave that up to you."

Steve chuckled and lead the way to his parents' room. He handed the binoculars over to Sam and pointed him towards the Wilson house.

"Alright so, you're now looking at Mr. and Mrs. Not So Happy, more commonly known as the Wilsons." Steve introduced as he leaned back against his mom's bed.

"What's so special about it?" Sam asked.

"A few years back they hired Rita, the house maid. She's real cute and has a tit tattoo," Steve said with a grin as Sam looked around for the maid. "She's even your type."

"Don't tease me now, Steve." Sam laughed.

"Anyway, she stops by the house every day to clean. Mr. Wilson leave for work at eight am exactly." Steve narrated as Mr. Wilson got in his car and drove off. "Then, Mrs. Wilson will leave and walk to work over at the Stop and Shop, you know the one by Clint's house?"

"Yeah, so what?" Sam asked as he was about to back away from the window.

"Wait, just watch." Steve pointed outside as Mr. Wilson pulls back up. "Who's this? Mr. Wilson must have a fast job if he's home already."

"Oh, bro, no way." Sam leaned closer to the window.

"Now look upstairs." Steve instructed. "Rita goes inside and look who she meets."

"Damn, dude." If Sam leaned any closer he'd be falling out the window.

"Right?" Steve laughed.

"What else you got?" Sam's curiosity was piqued.

They spent the rest of the morning going around the house as Steve introduced Sam to the secret lives of his neighbors. He was thankful to have someone to share this with since he didn't think his mom would approve of him peeping on their neighbors regularly and he was sure Tony wouldn't appreciate knowing that Steve watched him every day. Steve even told Sam about the story he heard on the news the other night and about his suspicion of Osborn, Sam took it well. When they circled around back to his room, Sam pointed out the window.

"Is that him?"

"Yeah." Steve answered. "I don't know much about him. He moved here a few years ago and he cuts his grass religiously."

"Huh," Sam sat down at the desk and powered up Steve's computer. "Let's see if we can find anything else out about Mr. Creepy."

Steve laughed as he returned to his Tony Watching. He had returned to his bedroom and he seemed to be working on some kind of machine. It was odd looking like the ones in his shop and it seemed to be moving. At one point, it knocked a part off of Tony's desk and Tony seemed to be yelling at it, like he was giving it a reprimand. It was kind of cute.

* * *

I didn't realize this until it was too late, but the Wilson's I have mention are _not_ Sam's Wilsons. I mean, I guess that could be registered under the category of "Duh" but I just wanted to clarify. The Wilson's I'm referring to are Wade Wilson's estranged parent's that apparently have no name. But don't worry, this will be the only chapter you'll see them in.


	9. Getting Together

Okay, this is where the Male/Male will begin. I don't go above heavy petting when I write stories (I just can't write novella erotica) so it probably won't get much further than this!

* * *

Chapter 9

Getting Together

"It says here that they have possibly found a link between these disappearances and cold cases in Connecticut." Sam read off the computer. "Isn't that where Mr. Creeps was from?"

Steve was leaning against the wall looking down at Tony, who was putting out cones in his backyard. He had three of his weird machines lined up at one end of the yard and the cones were spaced enough to resemble a track. Was he going to race these things? "Yeah," Steve replied.

Tony suddenly looked up and a big smile graced his face as he dropped the remaining cones and rushed towards the yard gate. An attractive girl with long fiery red hair and a dark-skinned boy came into view. The girl was wearing a white sheer shirt and blue shorts and the boy was wearing a dark blue Air Force shirt and plaid Bermuda shorts.

"Could you not stare at your boyfriend and actually pay attention to this stuff?" Sam chastised. "You were the one going all freaky about this this morning."

"Tony has friends over." Steve replied.

"What? The three bears of fab?" Sam jested.

"No. Actually, one of them is a girl." Steve said and grinned at his friend. "And she's pretty hot."

"What?!" Sam launched off the desk chair and looked down at Tony's backyard. The red headed girl was lounging on the lawn chair Tony had occupied earlier while Tony and the other boy finished setting up the track. "Oh, yeah. Damn, your boy got some good taste!" He blindly reached for the binoculars sitting on the window sill. He looked over at the other boy and then back at the girl and then at Tony and sighed. "Even his buddy is good looking. Why is it all the hot people are friends?" He asked sadly.

"You should be thrilled." Steve remarked with a grin. "I could be your in."

"Dude, if I wait that long for you and Tony to get together, I'll be too old to do anything." Sam responded with a long look at Steve. "You two are slower than snails." Steve opened his mouth to respond and Sam cut him off. "Yeah, I know. You think you're not worthy because of that thing on your ankle, but man, you can't let one incident define your life. Tony likes you just fine."

Sam leaned in closer to the window with every word he said before the binoculars clanked loudly on the glass. Hurriedly, they both dropped to the floor, their eyes wide. Steve stared at Sam, trying to keep from smacking him before he eased up to peek of the window sill. All three friends were looking up at his bedroom window and he and Tony made eye contact. He dropped back down.

"Shit, shit, shit." Steve said as he leaned his head back against the wall.

"What?" Sam asked.

"He saw me."

"What? No way."

"He did. We freaking made eye contact."

"Hold on, don't freak out yet." Sam peeked over and the three of them were moving to the front yard casting glances up at the window on their way. Sam sunk down next to Steve. "Yeah, they saw us."

Steve waited a moment and looked outside again. The backyard was empty and Tony's curtains were open and the room was empty. "They're gone."

Sam jumped up. "Where'd they go?"

The doorbell rang and Steve glanced at his door. "No way."

The two of them thundered down the stairs and into the living room. Steve jumped onto the couch and peered around the curtain and saw Tony and his friends standing on his stoop.

"It's them." Steve whispered. "Dude, it's him. He's on my porch!"

"Who knew peeping toms would get him to come over." Sam said to himself.

"What do I do?" Steve was everywhere. He couldn't seem to decide between running and hiding or having a panic attack in the middle of the living room.

"First, you need to go answer the door." Sam shoved him in the direction of the foyer.

They rushed to the door and Steve took a minute to compose himself before opening it. Tony stood there with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

"What took you so long?" Tony asked.

"We were um…" Steve scratched the back of his neck trying to come up with a good excuse. "We… you see…uh…"

"We were playing video games." Sam supplied as an answer. Steve turned to look at him with what-the-hell expression.

"Yeah. We were playing video games." Steve said with a slight eye roll. He believed when making excuses, all parties involved should have the same story, no matter how idiotic.

"Really?" The red headed girl asked. "What game?"

"Oha, you know, a little Call of Duty to get the blood pumping." Sam answered.

"Huh," Tony studied Sam and Steve before shrugging. "Fuck it, mind if we join?"

"Yeah, we love games." The girl said as she leaned against Tony's shoulder.

"You sure?" Steve asked.

"Definitely." The dark-skinned boy said. "It definitely beats watching Tony's robots run laps." He pushed himself inside the house and the other two followed.

"Hey! It's not that boring!" Tony admonished with a pout.

Steve led the new comers into the living room and powered up the Xbox. As Sam went into the kitchen, introductions were made. Tony's friends were Rhodey and Pepper. Both of which were old friends from Tony's old school.

"You a fan of the Air Force," Steve asked gesturing to Rhodey's shirt.

"Yeah, I'm signing up after school next year." Rhodey grinned.

"Well, you might see Sam there." Steve said with a sly smile. "He always wanted to be a little birdie."

"Hey, now." Sam defended. "Just because I'm going into the Force, doesn't make me any less of a man."

"You have something against Air Force?" Rhodey asked.

Steve winked at Tony and smirked as he said, "Oorah."

Rhodey groaned and his head fell back against the couch. "You're one of _those._ "

Pepper glanced around at the boys before saying, "I don't understand."

"You see, there's a long and standing tradition in the armed forces to just give each other shit." Sam explained. "Since Rhodey and myself are interested in the Air Force, Steven over there is the black sheep and is going to enlist in the Army."

"I guess I just don't get it." Pepper said.

"It's a guy thing, Pepper Pot." Tony stage whispered to her. "Now! I believe there was talk of video games."

Half an hour, four bags of chips and half a dozen maps later, the five of them were joking and laughing like they've known each other forever. Steve's heart felt a little lighter when Tony had plopped himself down next to him and Rhodey and gradually started to lean closer to him as time wore on. Now, Steve had Tony leaning against his chest with his feet in Rhodey's lap. Steve's arm was wrapped around his shoulders since he had given up playing after being accused of cheating. He was okay with that, he was just enjoying having this beautiful creature snuggled up to him. Tony tossed his controller onto the coffee table and announced to the room that they weren't skilled enough to keep him entertained as he stood from the couch. He grinned down at Steve and offered his hand. Steve accepted it. His heart was pounding wildly as Tony pulled him up the stairs and towards his bedroom.

"What's up?" Steve asked as he sat on his bed. Tony shrugged as he walked around Steve's room. There were a few clothes scattered around the floor, his walls were bare except for a couple of picture of his family that hung by his desk, his computer had the screen saver running with the Army motto bouncing around, and his sketchbook was laying open showing his doodles earlier that morning. Tony stopped there and examined the pages. "Those are just some doodles I did." Steve explained.

"They're good." Tony smiled at him over his shoulder. He lifted the sketchbook and lifted an eyebrow. "May I?"

Steve nodded. Tony carried it over to the bed and scooted back and leaned against Steve as he flipped to the beginning.

"That's Bucky." Steve said quietly. "He's my brother."

"I didn't know you had a brother." Tony stated as he gently ran a finger over the image. "Where is he?" Steve was silent for a while as he tried to compose an answer. How can you tell someone you barely know and definitely like that you killed your own brother? "Ah, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I just…I'm curious? I guess."

"It's okay." Steve's voice was rough and he cleared his throat. "I'm gonna have to talk about it sooner or, later right?" He took a deep breath. "Bucky, he uh, died last year. We were in a car accident. I was driving and we hit this car on the side of the road… we rolled a couple of times. I walked away and he didn't."

"Steve."

"I should've been paying attention, but I wasn't." Steve could feel the tears welling up and he fought like the dickens to make sure they didn't fall. "It's my fault that he's gone."

"No, Steve." Tony set the book aside and grabbed onto Steve's hand. His other came up to Steve's face and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "It's not your fault. Shit happens sometimes, it was not your fault."

Steve looked away and sniffed as he got himself under control. He put on a small smile and nodded to the book. "You still want to look at it?"

Tony grinned and picked up from where he left off. He thumbed through the pages and Steve described each one to the best of his memory, talking about Bucky got easier the further in they got. Tony paused and he fell silent. His hand hovered over the page as he took in what he saw. Steve looked down and immediately he felt his cheeks and ears get warm. He had completely forgot about the sketches he did of Tony.

"You drew me?" Tony whispered.

"Uh, yeah?" Steve said, unsure of what the right answer is.

Tony looked up at him. "Why?"

Steve shrugged, "You are… inspiring." Tony raised an eyebrow at him and Steve panicked. "I mean… I just… After everything that happened with… last year, I stopped drawing. I couldn't look at it without wanting to just… lose it." Steve pointed at the page. "Those are the first sketches I did since then."

"Me?" Tony sounded taken aback and his eyes were wide.

"I know, it's kind of creepy. Having practically a stranger draw you, especially when that stranger can't even leave his own house…"

"No," Tony interrupted. "That's not what I meant. I'm flattered you'd draw me like one of your French girls," Tony winked at him, "I just never thought I was that interesting to you."

"Are you kidding?" Steve asked, astounded. "You are interesting." Steve gestured down at the yard where the cones sat forgotten and the robots were moving around. "You spend every night in that shed and when you're done you sneak up the trellis to your room. You look at something and I can see you figuring it out and fixing it and it's beautiful. You built three robots and you talk to them like they're your pets or something. You are smart and kind and amazing, Tony."

Tony was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Have you been watching me?"

Steve's face paled. "S-sometimes."

Tony stood up and walked toward Steve, he placed on hand on Steve's chest and the other looped around his neck with his fingers playing with the hair on the back of Steve's head. He looked up into his eyes with a smile playing on his lips. Steve's hands came up and rested on Tony's hips, waiting for him to say something, anything.

"That is either the creepiest…" Tony leaned up closer until there was barely anything between them, "or the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me." Tony closed the gap and slid his lips onto Steve's with a small sigh.

Steve's grip on Tony's hips tightened as he pulled Tony closer to him and Tony's arms encircled his neck trying to pull him deeper into the kiss. If Steve went any deeper, he'd be in China. Tony's tongue poked out and ran along the seam of Steve's lips before they plundered further, exploring each other. His hands went around to Tony's back, learning and memorizing the feel of his muscles and the heat radiating from him.

A ringing phone pulled them away from each other. Tony cursed under his breath and he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

"Yeah, Dad?" He answered. Steve put his hands in his pockets to keep them from wanting to roam over Tony again. Tony gave him a smile as he listened to his father talking on the other end. "Pepper and Rhodey came over so we went for a walk around the neighborhood." Steve smiled at Tony's lie. "No, I'm not over there." Tony rocked on his feet gently as he listened to his father. "Alright. Fine. We'll head back now." He hung up and looked at Steve. "My dad can be…"

"Protective?" Steve supplied.

"Over bearing is more like it." Tony smiled and kissed Steve's cheek. "Later."

Tony headed down the stairs and rounded up Rhodey and Pepper before the trio left the house, Steve stood on the porch watching Tony before they all vanished inside the house. Sam sidled up next to him snacking on some left-over Cheetos.

"So," Sam started, "what'd you two do up there? You guys were gone for a long time."

Steve smiled. "Nothing. He just looked around my room, I showed him my sketches and then he kissed me."

The sound of Sam choking on a chip brought Steve's attention away from his neighbor. Once he could breathe normally again, Sam asked, "What? Why didn't you tell me earlier? Dude! What the hell? How was it? You know what, I don't want to know. But damn!"

Steve laughed. Yes, his summer was really starting to look up. He could be on house arrest for the rest of his life, so long as Tony kept smiling at him, touching him and kissing him like that, Steve would be set.


End file.
